Knights and Knaves
by Andartha
Summary: A few years after Schwarz and Weiss last met in the fight against Epitaph new players take up the battle of good vs. evil and old enemies meet yet again. Too bad Lady Luck messed with the dice and now all bets are off. ?Aya YukiMichel NagiOmi Side B
1. Shotgun Blues

Author's note:

Part of the "White Shadows and Black Reflections" arc, set several years into the future (Post-Glühen)

_Thoughts._

/Telepathy/

Disclaimer: 

Weiss Kreuz belong to Project Weiss and Takehito Koyasu. I just get to play with them.

Pairings: 

Lots. If I actually get around to writing them depends on the feedback.

Warnings: 

Bits of bad language and a spot of violence.

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Kimiko was pissed.

Not only had her brother been sermonizing her for nearly an hour, no, by now he was shouting at her too. And, ye gads, how much she wanted to yell back at him. But shouting back, telling him what she really thought, what she felt, what she knew would only make matters worse, so she kept digging her nails into her hands and stuck to the occasional "Hai,-onii-san…..gomen, onii-san…". It wasn't easy.

Usually onii-san was so very careful around her, quiet, considerate. There hadn't been a single argument between them since their parents had died. Heck, he didn't even tease her like he used to, and she missed that. She missed sharing the laughter and the joy, and yes, sharing the tears too. And that made her so very angry.

She knew very well that he was only trying to protect her, to shield her from the harshness of life. She knew that he wanted her to be happy. But why couldn't he see that he was hurting her by shutting her out? Locking her away in the proverbial tower, like a princess from a fairy tale wasn't making her feel happy and safe. It was making her depressed. And bloody furious. She felt like she was suffocating, slowly fading into the grey abyss of insignificance.

So being alive WASN'T always pretty and it wasn't always safe. So there WERE dark and dangerous things out there. So WHAT? She was alive. She was a human being. She wanted to deal with things, not hide from them. She wanted the right to make her own choices, to face her own challenges. And he was denying her that. He was denying her LIFE. He was such a damn hypocrite.

_Ah well…what did sensei say? "The path to hell is paved with good intentions…". Damn him for being right…again._

"Kimiko, are you even LISTENIG to what I'm telling you? You can't go on like this. Skipping classes, coming home late….failing grades. Yesterday Obaa-san was terribly worried when she came into your room and you weren't there! Nobody knows where you went and you came home at four o'clock in the morning! And you're refusing to tell us where you've been, apart from an "I went out and had fun with some friends". That's just not good enough!"

Inwardly she shrugged. Wasn't her fault that they'd been swamped with contracts and other affairs these last few weeks. But damn if she'd tell him that. Right at this moment, her phone started ringing. Uh-oh. Important call, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered at such a precarious moment. Having a pre-cog as a boss usually made for smooth business.

Glancing up at her brother, she pulled the phone from her pocket and looked at the display. Yep, important. Something must've come up. Shooting her brother an imploring glance, she started to flip the phone open, only to have it rudely ripped from her hands. She winced as it shattered on the wall behind her. Damn. Looked like onii-san was really, really mad at her now.

"I can't believe it. How can you even contemplate taking a phone-call while we're having this conversation? This is more important than anything else….Kimiko…."

He settled down on his knees in front of her, so that they were now eye to eye. She sitting on her bed, he kneeling on the floor in front of her. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder and she lowered her eyes so that he wouldn't see her hurt and, most important of all, none of her anger.

"Where did I go wrong? I know I wasn't there for you as much as you would have liked me too…"

_Damn right you weren't._

/Ah. So that's the reason why you didn't pick up the phone. Family can be such a drag./

_Thank you oh so very much. You're helpful as always. Sensei._

/My, my, my….a little bit pissed off, are we? Cynicism doesn't suit you, you know./

_I had a good teacher. So what's up?_

/Oh, we have some work tonight and we're going to need your skills. Urgently. Too much work for just Thistle./

_Drat. Getting away from here is going to be real difficult with my brother breathing down my neck like that…._

Onii-san's grip on her shoulder had tightened a bit, and she hadn't really been listening to what he was saying for the last minute or so. Looking up, she realized that she had missed something, something important. His eyes were hard as steel, and his mouth had thinned into an angry line. She sighed inwardly.

_O.K., tell me. What did I miss?_

/ Nothing much. He just asked you if you understood and promised to be a good little girl in the future. You didn't answer and so he noticed that you weren't paying attention. It firmed his resolve to take some serious action in order to set you right again./

_Great. Just Great. You didn't set me up for this, did you? And what kind of serious action, dammit?_

A malicious chuckle echoed through her mind.

/Set you up? Who? Me? Never! I assure you, this time I'm completely innocent./

_You? Innocent? Not in this lifetime….. I swear, if you set this up I'll…._

The telepathic voice grew softer.

/No I didn't. Really. His decision was all made even before he came to talk to you. Which is why Brad had me try the phone anyway. Your onii-san conferred with your aunt and uncle this afternoon, and since they just don't think that they can deal with you anymore, he has decided to step in. He's pretty much torn up inside about the whole thing. I'd say try and be nice to him, but I'm afraid it's to late for that./

Normally, in a situation like this, sensei would have kept on teasing her until she was ready to explode. He would have gotten an immense kick out of her brothers' misery and anger and out of her frustration. He would have kept up a running commentary of snippy little remarks, just because he enjoyed rubbing salt in her wounds. The fact that he was being nice for once made her stomach plummet. Something bad was afoot.

Nervously she started chewing her lip. Onii-san had gotten up again, and now he was looking down at her, his posture rigid with anger, his voice harsh.

"Kimiko, I can't allow you to go on like this. Something has to be done. I know it's been hard, but otoo-san and okaa-san would be so disappointed if they could see you now. I am disappointed. You're leaving me with no choice. You need discipline. A new environment. I'm sending you to a boarding school. "

"But…but onii-san! I….you can't!"

"No Kimiko. I can and I will."

She had been afraid that they would have this kind of conversation sooner or later, but perversely, she had deluded herself into hoping that she would be able to avoid it entirely. That hope had just been bashed.

_O.k. , so what's the plan?_

/ Well, for one, you have to make a choice now. Go to boarding-school as your brother wants you to, forget about your team and your work and make your brother happy….or blow you cover, big time, and start a major family feud between the two of you. Never mind all the other players involved./

_And which option are you voting for?_

/ Come on kiddo, you know me better than that./

_Tasty, is it?_

/ Incredibly. Well, what's your verdict./

She heavily resented the fact that sensei was getting off on this, and that he would get off on it even more in the future, but then, nothing in this world was ever perfect and she knew exactly where her priorities lay. And she knew that sensei did too.

_Pick-up on the way?_

/The usual. Will be there in about a minute./

_Well, let's get this show on the road then, shall we?_

She looked her brother straight in the face and let tears flood her eyes. They streamed down her cheeks, hot and salty, and she didn't even have to fake them. She added sobs to the tears and half-stammered "I'm sorrys" and then she folded in on her self, her arms going around her legs and her body shaking with emotion. As expected, onii-san went to his knees beside her and cradled her head to his chest. She would miss the familiar scent of sweat and flowers and motor-oil.

There was a tonfa hidden beneath the bed on which she sat. Grabbing it and ramming it into her brother's unprotected middle was one motion. She got up and let him slide to the floor as he gasped for breath. She followed up with a hit to the temple. Not hard enough to send him into la-la land, but hard enough to stun him for a moment. Then, she grabbed her laptop and shoved it into her rucksack together with the remains of her cell-phone. There was no sense in letting anything behind to give Kritiker a lead to their whereabouts and their contacts.

A motorcycle could be heard roaring around the corner at the end of the street. It was time.

_Thistle?_

/Yes. Take the short route, we must make haste./

The balcony was four floors up, but that didn't stop her from climbing over the railing. Thistle and his motor-cycle had stopped right in front of their apartment-complex by now and he was waiting for her, letting the engine roar like a lion marking his territory. The telekinetic would be able to catch her when she jumped, no problem.

Behind her, she could hear onii-san gasping her name and she turned briefly to look over her shoulder, only in time to see him stumble to his feet and reach out for her, confusion, pain and pleading in his eyes. It hurt like hell to see him like this, but she couldn't afford regret now. Later maybe. Time to hit the red button and blow her cover to hell.

Her voice was harsh and cold and she just knew that by now, sensei would be laughing so hard he'd have trouble standing. Ass-hole. But she'd stick with him anyway.

"Gomen nasai, demo mission da. Sayonara WEISS."

Then she jumped.

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Translations:

Onii-san : (older) brother

Hai: Yes

Gomen: Sorry

Gomen nasai: I'm very sorry.

Demo mission da: but it's a mission (I have a mission)

Sayonara: Good bye.

otoo-san : Uncle

okaa-san : Aunt

sensei : teacher


	2. Pretty tied up

Aya hated working undercover. There was just too much that could go wrong…would go wrong. He hated having to hold back, to observe, when every fibre in his body ached to for a fight, for the moment where he made his blade sing like a demented lover, dancing like lightning, striking down the dark beasts that threatened to devour the light. He hated it when some minor detail turned into a major stumbling block that could make a simple mission into a dangerous fiasco.

His sworn duty was to protect people. Sullying his hands with blood, again and again, so that the innocent would be safe was the one reason that justified his continued existence. But how often had he failed that duty? How often had people he had avowed to protect gotten hurt…or died? He had failed his family. He had failed Sakura and so many other innocents. He had also failed his comrades more than once, most of all Sena and Kyo. He didn't want to fail again.

Aya hated working undercover. But most of all he hated the fact that the lowly book-keeper of the local crime lord could not carry a katana without giving the game away.

The bleach-blonde sitting cross-legged on top of the desk in front of him took another bite from her Cesar's salad and then grinned up at him.

"So, kitty-cat, what's the mission that brings you here?"

On the big plasma screen behind her Aya could get a good view of Yuki, tied to a chair and bleeding sluggishly from a gun-shot wound to his shoulder.

Aya growled.

There was a snicker from the black leather chair behind the desk. The chair's back was turned to Aya and he briefly wondered at the identity of its occupant, who had seen right through Aya's and Yuki's cover and had played with them like mice before trapping them like this. All Aya knew was that the man was the crime-lord's chief of security, his prime enforcer, and that even the most brutal of the crime-lord's thugs were wary of him. A pale arm leaned on the chair's arm-rest, the outstretched hand holding a nasty looking dagger which it flicked into the air from time to time with an almost lazy ease. Sinewy muscles rippled under a skin covered by an irregular pattern of scars.

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because if you don't, your partner.." she pointed with a tomato laden fork in direction of the screen, "will die a slow, agonizing and most of all pointless death. If you do tell us, we might be able to negotiate a temporary alliance, both of you get a chance to slay the dark beasts you came here for plus the chance to return safe and sound back to England and my partner and I get to walk off with all of our current bosses' money, which is why WE are here."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Hmm…let's see. You've been here for two weeks and although your cover isn't worth shit anymore if we decide to unmask you, it's still intact so far, so you could theoretically still carry on with your mission, even if under slightly changed parameters. The information we've gathered on you and Kryptonbrand…", she tapped her fingers to a stack of DVD's lying beside her. "…could be very damaging to your team-mates if it got into the wrong hands. And of course you and Yuki will die if you don't cooperate."

Aya's glare alone should have killed her on the spot, but to his utter disgust it didn't and she happily continued munching her salad. He hoped she would choke on it. Another snicker came from the chair as if in response to his thoughts which raised his hackles even more.

"What are your terms?"

"You supply us with information on Marburg's accounts and help us set up the coup that will allow us to transfer all his money to one of our accounts on the Cayman islands. Once that's done we need to keep him and his cronies from coming after us and we need to cover our tracks, which basically means slaughtering Marburg and quite a few of his employees. Since they're the kind of people Kryptonbrand and Kritiker would consider legitimate targets I'm sure neither you nor Yuki will have a problem helping us with that part. In exchange, we help you find and eliminate your targets and we'll let both of you return to Kryptonbrand, safe and sound. Until then, we will keep Yuki as a hostage, but to assure you of our good will, you'll get daily contact with him. We want Yuki's cooperation with this too, since we're a bit short-handed and his computer skills will be useful. He's just as stubborn as you are, but he'll also follow your lead, so if you agree to this, he will too. You and Yuki will report to Kryptonbrand every week as usual, but you will do nothing to alert them to the fact that the circumstances have changed. If either of you even attempt to double-cross us, all bets are off."

Aya took a look at the screen. He knew that Yuki could see and hear him, thanks to the surveillance cameras in this room. His eyes sought contact with the young orphan. Yuki looked deathly pale and the lines around his mouth betrayed the pain he was in. But still, there was a grim determination in his eyes. The blonde was right. Whatever decision Aya made…Yuki would follow him, even if it meant going straight to hell. Yuki was loyal unto death and most of all, he trusted Aya. Trusted Abysinnian who had introduced Yuki to Kryptonbrand to give him a chance to avenge Alison. Yes, Yuki had made the decision to become an assassin on his own, fully aware of the risks that decision contained, but he was still Aya's responsibility.

"I agree."

She dabbed up the remains of her supper with a piece of bread and smiled up at him, eyes wide and slightly unbelieving.

"Are you sure? I mean…really, really sure? You might be getting a tad more than you bargained for, you know. Cutting a deal with the devil and all that…"

Aya could have strangled her with his bare hands.

"Do. Not. Mock. Me."

"So you agree? With all the hardships such a cooperation might ask of you? You're seriously certain?"

"YES!…my cooperation now will not save you from my blade…later." He took a deep breath and slowly breathed out again through his nose, his lips pressed to a tight sliver.

"Good. Then we agree to cooperate too, to the terms as stated. This of course brings us back to our starting point. What's your mission?"

He had expected her to brush off his threat. The unconcerned arrogance of Dark Beasts had worked to his advantage before. Still, despite the fact that he loathed the foul compromise he was agreeing to, the relief he felt at having a chance to save Yuki and maybe salvage the mission was almost palpable.

"Our target is a group of plastic surgeons that have been kidnapping children and young adults in order to modify them and sell them as toys to the highest bidder".

Aya felt sick to his stomach when he thought of the pictures he'd seen. The first copse had surfaced in the canals of Venice. No lower arms, no lower legs…both amputated and the rest of the body modified too, to suit a sick child molester's pleasure. The second body had been found in the bay of Yokohama, the third in lake of Geneva. All of them discarded like useless trash as their "owners" moved on to newer, fresher toys. Kryptonbrand had taken care of the "owners": an ambassador to Japan, a princeling from the Arab Emirates and a female business tycoon from the States, but so far, KB hadn't been able to track down the surgeons that made a small fortune catering to the sick pleasures of the disgustingly rich. The only information that they had been able to unearth was that The Surgeons could be contacted through Marburg, a crime lord who had set up his base on a miniature island east of Thailand. So Aya and Yuki had gone there, both of them posing as small time criminals on the run and in search of a job. Aya's cover was a broker for a multi-national banking corporation who'd skimmed the profits once to often, while Yuki posed as an anarchistic hacker on the lam from Interpol for setting free a worm that had endangered the national security of several European countries. Their stories and references had gotten them in pretty smoothly. Maybe too smoothly.

The bottle-blonde's face had lost its sunny expression. "Yeah….I can see why you'd target those guys. I'll tell you now that there are two of them, plus four nurses that assist with the operations and the pre- and post-operation "care" of their victims. One of the doctors is currently here to negotiate a contract for another toy. If we play this carefully, we should be able to find out where the rest of his team has their base. Right now…", she glanced at her watch, "I think it's time to wrap this up and call it a day. It's 4 in the morning. We'll come up with a strategy over brunch. If that's o.k. with you?"

Aya nodded sharply.

"Yuki?"

The young assassin nodded too.

"Very good. Then we'll end the transmission now, 'miko will patch up Yuki and introduce him to his new living quarters, over here we'll discuss some last details and we'll talk again tomorrow."

The screen turned dark, leaving the single desk-top lamp to weakly illuminated the room and Aya's heart filled with dread. This could still be a set-up. No, this most certainly WAS a set-up. But right now, his options were rather limited and he'd have to do something that wasn't to his liking at all. Take a chance.

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked down at the bitch that had just blackmailed him.

"So. What details did you want to discuss?"

"Although we agreed on a deal, we can't trust each other. So we want you nearer to our operation so we can keep an eye on you. And you probably want to keep us under tight scrutiny too. Also, we need a good excuse for a minor book-keeper to spend lots of time with the chief of security. That'll give us time and space to exchange information and make plans."

"Hn."

"So starting right now, we'll pass you of as…", she jerked her thumb in direction of the still turned chair and its unknown occupant, "…my bosses' new lover."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You agreed to the "hardships of cooperation" not 5 minutes ago?"

"I did NOT agree to whore myself, just to suit your perverted games."

"Hey, no whoring involved. You can sleep on the couch if you want to, as long as you're sleeping in his quarters. And maybe a heated kiss or two in public. Just enough to make an affair between the two of you credible in public. You're such an icicle, nobody would believe a "sweet , sweet lurvin'" act from you anyway."

"Hn."

"I'll take that as a "yes" then?"

Aya snarled. "Yes."

"Hey, don't I get asked at all?" a slightly gravely voice grouched from the direction of the chair.

"Nope."

A snicker from the chair. "Brat."

"Yep. But I cheerfully live in the certainty that you'll make me pay later. So, see the two of you tomorrow. I'll leave you now to get a acquainted."

She hopped from the desk, and slid past Aya out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft "click".

The snickering coming from the chair had faded to a soft chuckling. Warm and rich, it sled over Aya's skin like old whiskey, raising goose-bumps in its wake. It wasn't right. But right now, he couldn't do anything about it either.

"How did you break our cover?"

A sigh. "Kitty-cat, I knew ye the second you stepped of the wharf. The sinuous grace of your movements…the brittle ice reflected in your eyes….that soft rose smell of yer body….ye couldn't have hidden from me no matter which colour ye dyed yer hair or no matter what kind of story ye'd come up with. The rest was just close observation, hacking yer associate's computer and a bit of patience."

Aya felt nauseous. This was worse than he'd expected. Whoever his new associate was…he knew him. And he seemed more than just a little obsessed. And now Aya was at his mercy. No matter what the blonde had said…the rules could change anytime, for they counted nothing to dark beasts. But right now, Aya did not want to be the first to break the bargain. The stakes were too high and Aya would bide his time.

"Show your face."

The chair swivelled, slowly. Long silver hair, woven to a braid that went down to its owners' waist. A black silk jacket with a dragon pattern, chinese style with a high collar and no arms. Loose black pants and leather boots. The ruined eye covered with its usual patch, the single golden eye glinting dangerously in the semi-darkness. Scars marring a face that otherwise would have been almost too pretty for a man and sensuous lips stretched into a wolfish grin.

"Hi Fujimiya. How's your sister?"


End file.
